Too Little Too Late
by rebecca-in-blue
Summary: "Where did he get off being mad at Rachel for doing the same thing?" Tagged to the 2005 movie. Watching Rachel reunite with her mom, Ray has regrets.


A drabble about what Ray might've been thinking in the movie's final scene. My entry for the monthly oneshot contest at Caesar's Palace. The prompt was _new_ or any word rhyming with _new_ , and I chose _rue_.

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Rachel is asleep in Ray's arms when they finally reach Mary Ann's parents' house in Boston. The old brick brownstones on the street show little damage from the alien invasion, and Ray thinks about all the destruction that he's seen on the long journey here from Jersey — the airplane that crashed practically in his front yard, its turbine billowing black smoke, the cars smashing into each other as they slid off the ferry into the dark waters of the Hudson. Mary Ann has probably been here at her parents' place the entire time, relatively safe and completely oblivious.

Rachel stirs and blinks awake now, as if sensing that her mother is near, and maybe Mary Ann can sense her too, because suddenly, she throws the front door open and rushes outside. Rachel lifts her head and gasps when she sees her, and Ray sets her down. Rachel takes off down the block to her mother, running faster than she ever did when they were fleeing the alien tripods and Ray was pleading with her to hurry up. She runs to Mary Ann and throws herself into her arms, crying, "Mom, Mom!" over and over.

Rachel and Mary Ann stay like that for a long moment, their arms wrapped around each other, both of them sobbing. Mary Ann meets Ray's eyes over their daughter's head at one point, nods, and mouths _thank you_. But Rachel never looks back at Ray. She clings to Mary Ann as if her life depends on it, as if she's forgotten that her father is even still there.

Ray watches them together, and he remembers running to Rachel and shielding her eyes with his hand on the riverbank, so she wouldn't see the dead bodies. He remembers nearly getting his skull bashed in trying to get her out of their van before the mob swarmed it. He remembers wrestling Ogilvy's gun from him and killing the man, then forcing himself to stay awake all night while Rachel slept, to make sure she was safe. He remembers carrying her for hours at a time, so she wouldn't fall behind or get lost in the crowd, and how the heavy, dead weight of her made his arms go numb.

Had Rachel ever thanked him for any of it? Had she ever acted grateful? No. Practically the only thing Rachel had done, ever since that freak lightning storm that started this whole nightmare, was wail over over, "I want _Mom_! Take me to _Mom_!" The entire time, Ray kept telling himself how damn happy he would be when they finally found Mary Ann — _if_ they ever did — and he could unload their kid.

But now that it was happening, Ray didn't feel happy at all. This wasn't right. This _hurt_.

He blinks, still staring at Mary Ann and Rachel, and then, it occurs to him that this must be how hurt Mary Ann felt when he cheated on her years ago. Mary Ann had cut back to part-time at her job after Rachel was born, but even then, she used to wake up before Ray in the mornings, to start getting the kids ready for school, to brew him coffee and fix his lunch before he left for work.

Now, Ray racks his brain, trying to remember — had he ever thanked her for that, or for anything else? Had he ever acted grateful? No, he'd thanked Mary Ann by sleeping with that cute bartender in the bar where he used to go after work, while she was at home cooking dinner and helping Robbie with homework. The bartender was flirty and young, probably fifteen years younger than Ray, and he was so pleased that he'd caught her eye that he asked when her shift ended and went back to her place with her without thinking twice. While Mary Ann put their kids to bed, he had fallen into another woman's arms and forgotten all about her. Where did he get off being mad at Rachel for doing the same thing?

Mary Ann is holding Rachel's hand now, leading her inside, talking to her too quietly for Ray to make out the words. She looks back at Ray again and motions for him to come inside, too; he and Rachel both look like they've been through hell, and she probably wants to know what's happened to them since she last saw them. But Rachel still doesn't even glance over her shoulder at Ray. She's forgotten all about him, and Ray supposes he deserves it.

No, he _knows_ he deserves it. As he starts up the brownstone steps behind Mary Ann and Rachel, he knows that it's time to finally do what he should've done a long time ago. It might be way too little and years too late, but now that he's had a taste of how much it hurt, he's going to apologize to his ex-wife.


End file.
